


P.A.

by Wierdkid20



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Gen, Nation meta, No parings, nation meets humans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-07
Updated: 2016-03-30
Packaged: 2018-05-18 18:13:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 15,757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5938186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wierdkid20/pseuds/Wierdkid20
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In what seem's to be a stroke of much needed luck, Abigail Clarke lands a position as personal assistant to Sir Arthur Kirkland, a man who's exact job in the British government is...unclear. Meanwhile, England deals with the news that the secret the nations have guarded for so long may soon be revealed to the general population, from someone within their circle of trust. No Parings</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Hello Everyone! So this is the first fanfiction I have written AND published in a good while, but the idea's been gnawing at me for days. This has also been an excellent distraction from all of the other editing I need to get done, fighting fire with fire?

Normally Abigail would be nervous about starting a new job anyway. This was pretty common, and considering the year she had had, completely rationalized. However it was by no means helped with the fact that her non disclosure agreement mentioned treason.

That bit was terrifying. But a job, a very well paying one at that, as an assistant to a British diplomat, was worth it. More importantly, it was a step in the right direction. Abigail had passed the interview with flying colors she thought, with a man she was almost positive was M15, and now it was time to meet her boss. She hadn't expected to be directed down three winding corridors to a back office in Westminster. When she finally reached the door she paused.

 _Arthur Kirkland._ This was followed by an entire string of letters that part of Abigail recognized various knighthood orders. The other part of her saw the paper tacked to the door just below the plaque.

_**Enter on Pain of Death.** _

"Well, he has great handwriting." She muttered, before giving herself a glance in the reflection of her phone. Not a hair out of place in her bun, no threads loose on her suit jacket or skirt, not dirt on her flats and no runs in her hose. Most importantly though, no panicked calls from Thomas. All was well, hopefully it stayed that way. Abigail opened the door cautiously, the room beyond was empty and she saw what she was sure was her future work space. She also heard the opening riff to _Anarchy in the UK_ from beyond the door behind the small desk _._ How ironic. She slipped the letter of introduction from her purse and setting the bag on the desk. Then she knocked.

The music immediately cut out, there was a shuffle of papers and a squeak of a chair. Two seconds later the door was ripped open and Abigail was face to face with a very angry blonde man wearing a suit and a set of eyebrows so comically large that she wondered if they were real.

"Can't any of you blighters read?" He yelled. Abigail held her ground, refusing every tingling instinct she had to run away, not even allowing herself to take a step back. Instead she thrust her arm forward depositing the letter into his open, angry hand. She didn't trust herself to speak, it was either going to come out sarcastic or terrified and there was no reason for her to lose the job this quickly. Mr. Kirkland snatched the letter and scanned it briefly before relaxing and looking somewhat embarrassed. "Oh," He coughed awkwardly into his hand and straightened his tie. "My apologies Miss, I forgot you started today." His voice was odd, It reminded her of a bbc announcer from thirty years ago but the man couldn't have been much older than her.

"No harm done Mister Kirkland." She said forcing an easy smile on to her face. Kirkland frowned at her accent.

"Preston?"

"Abigail actually, that should have been in the letter." She said, the joke was too good to pass up, Kirkland however remained stony faced. So now it was her turn to cough awkwardly. "Abigail Clarke, sir, sorry about the intrusion." She held out her hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

He shook her hand, "Arthur Kirkland, Likewise" He didn't smile back. "I think you have a box that you can get started with, Robert." He paused there for a moment and his entire body sighed in something like resignation. "Robert should have left a note on the computer about how the filing system works." He turned and shoved a box of files into Abigails arms. "I have work to do so do try not to bother me too much Miss Clarke." And then he shut the door in her face.

 _The nerve_ Abigail thought, pursing her lips and setting the box on her desk.

On the other side of the door England turned back on his music. _I miss Robert already._

_*     *     *     *_

The work was easy, like easy enough to make Abigail wonder why there had been such a fuss. Robert, her predecessor she assumed, had indeed left a note inside one of the file cabinets about how this mess of a system worked.

By the time 5 o'clock rolled around she was packing up her stuff and the room behind her was silent. She debated whether to tell that she was leaving or not and finally decided to knock.

"What?" Well atleast he didn't sound nearly as pissy now. Abigail poked her head into the room. It was much cleaner than the snippet she had seen earlier. No papers on the floor. or desk really. There were three boxes though. One red, one green and one.. black. Abigail frowned slightly confused. "What is it?" Kirkland asked again. Abigail snapped out of her thoughts. He had one hand over the receiver on his phone and was looking at her impatiently.

"Sorry, I'm headed out, do you want me to take those boxes with me?" She asked. He shook his head.

"I'll get them, see you tomorrow Miss Clarke." He said. Abigail nodded.

"See you tomorrow Mr. Kirkland." She said before carefully shutting the door and quickly exiting the office into the maze of corridors, trying to figure out exactly what her boss did that could possibly involve three different colors of boxes.

On the train back to her flat Abigail checked her texts, only one from Thomas.

'What is for dinner?' Abigail text back

'Take away, hw done?'

'Yes' came the reply a minute later. She nodded, she didn't know why she even asked, if it wasn't for the fact that he couldn't reach the higher cabinets or talk to anyone besides family, Thomas was more competent than she was. He had had to be.

After a brief stop at the curry place she entered their flat just a bit after 6:30. Thomas was sitting on the couch engrossed in a book that looked suspiciously like her old copy of Artemis Fowl.

"Hello." She said making her way to their dinky kitchen. There wasn't a reply for a bit so she continued. "How was school?" after another pause she turned to see if the whiteboard was out. It wasn't, Thomas took a deep breath and then in a small voice he didn't use very often he said:

"Fine, I brought the post in, Thought about calling you but I thought your phone might be off." He said. Abigail smiled and breathed an internal sigh of relief. Talking was a very good sign.

"Thank you. It probably was but I'll get you the extension number for emergencies. Thomas nodded, talking done for the day and took his food back to his place on the couch. After eating Abigail opened up her laptop to search for their offices extension. Only to not find it. Actually... now that she thought of it there hadn't been a room number on the door. That was not normal. "On second thought I'll just leave my phone on. Can't find the number." There was the sound of a cap being taken off and a few squeaks. She looked over and saw Thomas's whiteboard with his neat block print.

 _Ok_ he had written. Abigail forced a smile and nodded back, but as soon as Thomas had turned she frowned. Some days she just wanted her brother from before the accident back.

*     *     *     *

Outside it was pouring, and on his walk home England contemplated a question that had plagued him since his days as Rome's province.

' _Am I in a bad mood because the weather is horrible or is the weather horrible because I'm in a bad mood?'_ Of course it wasn't like the mood was unwarranted. Between hosting the next world meeting, Robert's retirement and the possible leak in their identities he had plenty to worry about.

Germany had been the one to call him, apparently some online message board had found a tale about a captain terrorizing spanish and french ships for centuries, then paired it with a picture of him from Churchill's war room that he didn't even remember having been taken, along with a still from the london opening ceremonies of him sitting with the royal family. Because in the end it was always him. You're a pirate captain for a few centuries and no one ever lets you forget it.

At least that had a chance of keeping the next meeting on track. He wasn't too worried about it though. They had had scares before but nothing had ever come of it. The scares kept them on their toes though.

He unlocked his door and thought briefly about his new P.A., Abigail Clarke hadn't been his first choice but he supposed that she would have to do. Arthur had to wonder how long it would take her to figure out what he was. The rule was that you didn't tell anyone outright that you were a personification, except your boss to prevent misunderstandings. Many people simply didn't have a clue what you meant when you said that you were a personification, that is, if they believed you in the first place.

In the end the information was guarded with all the strength of a teenagers keg party. There were roughly six people that he had personally told, not including most of the royal family and the bosses of other nations. However he was also ninety percent sure that his eighty year old next door neighbor also knew. It had taken Robert two months to finally figure it out, when he had let it slip that he had seen one of the lost episodes of Doctor Who.

He pet the most recent cat, Liz, after setting down his briefcase.

"Until then it looks like I'm on my own for most things, eh Liz?" he asked the cat. The cat meowed and overhead the fairies giggled. He frowned slightly, "What is it?"

"Minty's in your bushes again." England then decided with a clap of thunder, that the rain was keeping pace with his mood, not the other way around.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright so that was fun, hopefully I have the next chapter up soon and I hope you liked it.
> 
> As you may be able to tell I am not british and quite honestly have no idea exactly how the government works beyond some frantic Google/wiki -ing and several half remembered documentary's.
> 
> So if something is wrong or I some phrasing is off let me know! I'd be happy to hear from you, which of course leads into the great fanfiction writers prayer
> 
> Rate and review. Please.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow guys, thanks for the comments! I'm glad to see that people enjoy it. So some things that weren't mentioned in the summery. This story doesn't have any parings, though you may be able to see some FrUk if you squint. Feel free to let me know if something is incorrect/misspelled/misgrammared.
> 
> Enjoy the next chapter!

By the end of the first week Abigail had definitely decided that her boss was the strangest man she had ever worked for. After the first day the door was pretty much always open, excepts for the few times that Kirkland had had others in the office. Which meant of course that Abigail got to hear the man's very eclectic music choice, along with the fact that he talked to himself like there was another person in the room which was _very_ disconcerting.

The visitors he got were rather odd as well, not even beginning to consider the Prime Minister who had briefly smiled at her, walked into Kirkland's office, shut the door and proceeded to have a 15 minute shouting match with the man after which he flew the door open and walked out with Kirkland, both of them laughing. No, Mister Kirkland's other visitors were much more eclectic. There were three men, and a woman with eyebrows similar enough to Kirkland's that she stopped wondering if they were real or not. One welsh, one scot and two irish, all of varying temperaments and only one introduced himself, Jim, apparently they were all brothers that happened to work in the upper echelons of the government. Was that shady? In Abigail's mind, Very.

There was also a soft spoken Canadian, an obnoxious america and a French man who had introduced himself as Francis Bonnefoy. He had been perfectly polite to Abigail, if a bit flirtatious but from the moment he closed Kirklands door behind him to the moment he left, blowing a kiss to Abigail, Mr. Kirkland had been on edge and pissy.

All in all though, this was the best job she had ever had. Kirkland didn't ask much of her. She got him tea roughly twice a day, three times if one of his visitors had been around. She took away the boxes before she left usually unless there was one of the striped ones, in which case Kirkland just gave her a shake of the head and shooed her off. This left her plenty of time to catch up on her podcasts, check her email and do the rare amount of actual work she had to do. There really had been only two strange requests, the first was for her to find him a copy of The Shepherd's Crown by Terry Pratchett for him, that was said in an almost defeated tone. The other one, was just that previous Friday.

"I'm going to be out of town for about a week for a meeting, would you be able to feed my cat?" Kirkland asked her around lunch time.

"Um, Sure?" Abigail asked. "Are you sure you don't want me to come with you?" She was pretty sure that that was something she was supposed to do as his personal assistant.

"No," He said, almost too quickly. "Everything's taken care of. I just need someone to feed Elizabeth." This exchange was interesting in a few ways. First, Mr. Kirkland rarely said much to her other than a "good morning" in various moods. Second, when he said anything to her it was never about his personal life and now he was asking her to go to his house and told her that his cat's name was 'Elizabeth'. And finally third, he followed up handing her a key to his house with, "Please don't snoop."

That probably hadn't been asking a lot in his mind and now Abigail was standing in front of his house with Thomas reminding herself of them.

"Alright, we're just going to be quick." She told him stepping onto the stoop and unlocking the front door of the house in London. It was much bigger than she had expected, especially this close to the main part of the city, and it was old. One of the few to survive the blitz probably. "His job must pay great." She muttered as she opened the door. It was like walking into a museum, she heard the click of a dry erase marker and a few squeaks then turned to see Thomas's board.

 _This is so cool, I am going to go look around._ He had written and he was gone before Abigail could even say "Wait." She felt something pressing against her leg and looked down to see a tabby cat rubbing against her.

"Oh." She said bending down to pet it. "You must be Elizabeth." The cat meowed in response and trotted towards the kitchen. Abigail sighs and followed, taking in the artwork, intricate rugs and various other decorations. "He decorates better than I do." She mused, then noticed a basket of knitting on the couch as the cat led her through the living room, there was an embroidery hoop next to it. Not that that changed a whole lot of her thoughts on her boss. She already knew he was odd.

The kitchen was just as well decorated as the rest of the house. Everything was neatly put away but Abigail could see clear signs of a serious tea habit, that she also knew about. Everything was relatively up to date, to within the last five years or so, except for the table. It was made of dark wood and had gouges in it some of which looked like they almost went through the table. It felt old and out of place in what was otherwise a fairly modern house. Elizabeth meowed snapping Abigail out of her thoughts.

"Right, sorry." She said, located the box of food, and fed the cat. "Alright Thomas let's go!" She called into the house as she headed for the front door. There was no response, and when her brother didn't come running to the front door Abigail sighed and started looking for him.

"Thomas! Come on, he's asked that I don't snoop!" She yelled ascending the stairs to the first floor. "That applies to you too!" She finally found him in a back bedroom that seemed to hold the purpose of some kind of storage closet. The other bed rooms had the look of not being occupied but taken care up, except for Kirklands own. This one however didn't have a bed just a frame and set of drawers. There were boxes stacked everywhere. Labeled things like _Oz's Toy's_ , _Matthew's shoes, Amal's Wheel,_ and _Bomb shelter stuff_. Abigail frowned confused and then looked over to see what Thomas was looking at. An old military uniform, hung up in the closet with a musket and saber leaning against the wall.

 _Do you think their real?_ Thomas wrote showing her the board without turning around.

"Probably." She said. "There's probably a permit for these somewhere around here." The board was cleaned and rewritten on.

_Your boss is so cool._

_*     *    *     *_

The week had been just as horrible as England had expected. Everyone had been loud and obnoxious, no one had taken the threat seriously, and he had ended up with France, Spain and America at his house in Dover. He was drained and wanted nothing more than to curl up in bed with a cup of Earl Grey, Elizabeth and The Shepherd's Crown and probably have a good cry over the book.

Unfortunately the universe had decided that he couldn't have anything easily because somehow he had left his London house keys at Westminster and Miss Clarke had the spare. So he had to drive to his Westminster and walk all the way through the building to his back office that he was starting to regret having chosen.

He was surprised that anyone was in the two rooms at 4:00, he had assumed Miss Clarke would keep shorter days without him there. But even more surprisingly was the boy sitting at her desk using the computer. He was obviously related, same dark skin and curly black hair, and he was wearing a uniform that England recognized from one of the better schools in the area, and glanced up at England through a pair of round rimmed glasses.

"Hello." England said awkwardly. The boy dug in his pocket and pulled out a marker that he used to write on a small white board. England's stood there puzzled until the boy was done and held it up.

 _Hello, My name is Thomas Clarke, I am Abby's younger brother, she will be back soon, she went to the lavatory._ England read.

"Ah I see." He said choosing not to comment on the whiteboard, the boy could be mute for all he knew. "So what are you doing then?" He moved to the back expecting to see some sort of game. Instead on the screen was full of text and in front of him the boy had a page of Latin verbs. "School work?" He asked, though it looked a bit advanced for a seven year old.

Thomas removed the cap from his marker with a click and there was a series of squeaks.

_Personal work actually, we are studying Rome in history and I wanted to see if I could teach myself Latin._

"Ah I see, How's that working out for you?" Arthur half sat on the desk and watched him write.

_Alright so far, the cases are rather difficult though._

"Indeed, I remember having problems with those as well," He said followed by thinking 'About a thousand years ago.'

 _I like your tie, I am a Ravenclaw, Abby is a Slytherin though._ England looked down at the tie in question that was loosened after the meeting. It was his Gryffindor one of course. Subtle enough that no one was likely to notice it, except the Frog of course, he always had some comment about Arthur's wardrobe.

"She's that ambitious then?" He asked amused. Thomas nodded and quickly wrote.

 _She says she's going to be Prime Minister one day_ England almost laughed but then the door behind them opened.

"Mr. Kirkland!" Miss Clarke said surprised. After many years and several P.A.'s Arthur had learned the tone of voice a person used when they expected to be sacked, and from the look on Miss Clarke's face he expected that he was right. England smiled.

"Hello Miss Clarke, just forgot something here. How has your week been?"

"Um, Fine, getting ready to leave actually, Thomas was just waiting on me to pack up." Clarke stammered, looking between her brother and boss. England glanced at the boy, who smiled at England conspiratorially. 'Yes,' He thought 'I like this one.'

"It's quite alright, we were having a nice chat." He said Miss Clarke's gaze jerked to Thomas surprised and England took the moment to duck into his office and retrieve his keys from where they were sitting for the entire week on his desk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some closing/ headcanon notes:
> 
> Amal = India, though back in my day we had no canon India so my headcannon was that India was a girl, but I'm slowly adapting to this modern canon.
> 
> Jim= Northern Ireland, the more relaxed of the two Ireland, especially since the 90's
> 
> Final question: Anything particular that you guys want to see? I have about 9 chapters planned out but I have no problem deviating from my outline.
> 
> -Wierdkid20


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey Everyone! Hope you enjoy this one.

"Mon ami, if we investigated any and all possible leaks in our identities we wouldn't have time to sleep." Francis said. England rolled his eyes and shifted the phone to the opposite ear in an attempt to relieve the pressure on his neck. It was around two weeks after the last world meeting and winter had decided to arrive early, with a vengeance. England was curled up on the couch with three blankets, a mug of tea, and his housecoat, debating whether to leave the warmth of his nest to start the fireplace. He suspected that across the channel, France was in the same state.

"Except you know as well as I do that on the off chance that this is an actual threat no one is going to be even remotely prepared to deal with it!" England ranted into the phone. "I mean, do we really want a repeat of the thirties?"

There was a pause on the other end of the line, next to him Liz purred and England calmed his nerves with a sip from his mug.

"Are you talking about the 1430 or 1930? Because both of those have very different connotations." France asked. Arthur frowned.

"1630 you twit. Remember? Me hanged, Gilbert burned, you beheaded."

"Ah right. Well Angleterre, you don't have anything to worry about then." Francis said.

"Oh?" Arthur grunted through a mouthful of tea.

"You are not anywhere near pretty enough to be mistaken for a witch nowadays" England spat out his tea, spraying it all over the cat laying on his lap who shot up, extending her claws directly into- erm.. well it was a good thing he healed fast.

Abigail wondered how it was possible for a man to have this many scarves. It seemed like Kirkland had an endless supply of them, ranging from solid colored, to Gryffindor stripes, and a remarkable 4th Doctor scarf. She also had to wonder how he was cold enough to wear them in the 21 degree office. Abigail had started wearing short sleeved shirts underneath the cardigan and coat that she wore outside just so that she could compensate for the heat.

Mr. Kirkland hadn't mentioned Thomas's appearance two weeks ago after reassuring her that it was fine that he had been there. More surprisingly he didn't ask about the white board either. That was usually the first thing anyone brought up, whether her brother was in the room or not.

Abigail frowned as she flipped through Kirkland's notes from one of his various meetings. She was starting to wonder what it was exactly that her boss did. His title may have been diplomat, but the paperwork that came from his office and into her file cabinet said that diplomat didn't even begin to cover it.

Kirkland seemed to have his fingers things in everything from international nuclear treaties to Welsh agriculture to the elections for the London assembly. It was baffling to Abigail how he managed to keep on top of everything.

She was jostled out of her thoughts by the phone ringing. It had never done that before. Abigail blinked open mouthed at the device for a moment before remembering that it was her job to answer it and scrambling to answer it.

"Um, Arthur Kirkland's office, This is his secretary speaking, how can I help you?" She said mentally cursing herself for forgetting how to do this so quickly.

"Hello dear, is Arthur there? I believe his mobile must be off." An older womans voice said.

"Oh, yes he's here, give me a moment I'll get him." Abigail said, she put the woman on hold then poked her head around the door frame. "Mr. Kirkland, you've got a call on double zero." Kirkland's head jerked up and he looked as shocked as she did when the phone first rang.

"From who?" He asked. Abigail craned her head back and started reading off the phone's screen. Three numbers in Kirkland dived for the phone. "Bloody hell!" He picked up the phone. "Hello mum, sorry mum what was it you needed?" He was giving Abigail a glare so ferocious that the girl decided it was probably a good time to go get a cup of tea.

So it wasn't often that you learned that you had just put the queen on hold. After informing of her of that fact, Kirkland didn't speak to her until she went home.

Abigail really didn't take to heart most things that her parents had told her. 90 percent of the time they were drunken rants or general put downs about her appearance/goals. However, one of her fathers more sober declarations always stuck with her.

"When it rains Abby," He had said looking over bills, "when it rains it pours." So maybe Abigail shouldn't have been surprised when the power was out on probably what was going to be the coldest day of the year.

When she walked in Thomas was huddled on the couch with a copy of the Iliad, wrapped in blankets and with his cap pulled down nearly over his eyes.

"Do they have power upstairs?" She asked already plugging in the number for the power company.

 _No, the whole building's out._ Thomas wrote, his handwriting slightly askew from writing with his mittens.

"Fantastic," She muttered, then spoke up as the woman on the other end picked up. "Hello, I live in the Lorrington apartment on- oh.. you know, sorry then, any idea when it'll be back-..oh.. alright well what do you propose we- someone to stay with? I don't- I'll see what I can do."

 _Who are we going to go stay with?_ Thomas asked.

"I don't know yet." Abigail frantically ran through the list of people she knew that were anywhere close. The closest family they had were their grandparents in Oxford and any friends she had were in Manchester.

_What about Mr. Kirkland? He has a big house, and he's cool._

"I'm not calling-" Abigail began before her phone rang. "Oh you're kidding me." She said staring at the caller id before answering.

"Hello Miss Clarke, You don't happen to have a flat at Lorrington do you?"

Maybe subconsciously England did want her to find out, or perhaps not sub- at all. He had to admit he was sick of having to act like he wasn't several centuries old. So the best way to have her finally figure it out had to be have her stay the night. Besides he didn't really see a reason that anyone should be needlessly cold these days. He certainly didn't hold with it.

The doorbell rang and he opened it, nudging Liz back with his foot. Miss Clarke was on the other side with a bag full of groceries and Thomas had written _Hello!_ on his board.

"Hello," He said. "I do have food,"

"Yes well there was no reason that this should go bad back at home," She said balancing the bag on her hip and expertly weaving her way past Liz to the kitchen. "Besides it's not fair to expect you to feed both of us on such short notice."

Arthur did what he normally did in situations where people took over his kitchen, whether it be Alfred, Francis, Antonio, Amal, or strangely enough Gilbert that one time. He made tea.

"So Mr. Kirkland, your interested in history?" Miss Clarke asked as she pulled food out of the bag, laying it on the counter. Arthur smirked slightly, internally breathing a sigh of relief. 'Finally.' he thought.

"Yes, you could say that." He said. "Tea?"

"Yes please." Abigail replied, there was some squeaking and Arthur turned to read thomas's board.

_Your house is really cool, is the musket upstairs authentic? Or is it a reproduction?_

"Thomas!" Abigail warned. England nodded and poured tea into three cups.

"It's real, hasn't been fired since..." He paused then frowned when he thought back. "The 1700's"

_Wow!_

"I truly didn't mean to snoop, Mr. Kirkland. Thomas got over excited, sorry." Abigail said in her 'please don't sack me' tone of voice. England shrugged.

"It's alright and please," He said sipping his tea, "Call me Arthur."

Miss Clarke proved to be an excellent cook, well, better than him anyway. However, other than the question about his 'interest' in history she spoke no more about anything else in his house.

"Perhaps it will be a little longer with this one." He murmured making a pot of chamomile. Ever since the empire had fallen England had been left with less of his physical strength and less of the mania that seemed to go hand and hand with the state of mind. But of course the bouts of insomnia were there to stay. It was midnight and his houseguests had been in bed for a few hours at this point. Outside he could hear howling winds of the kind of storm he hadn't experienced in recent memory. And inside it felt like he was being battered by shards of ice.

The first sip of the tea definitely helped to take the edge off, however the second was interrupted by a small voice with a northern accent.

"Are you immortal?" It asked. England jumped, just barely avoiding dumping his cup down the front of his house coat. He turned to see Thomas standing in the doorway in navy blue pajamas with white piping, he was looking at Arthur through his glasses owlishly.

"What?" He sputtered, not entirely believing that he had just heard the boy speak.

"Are you immortal," Thomas repeated sitting at the table and looking pointedly at England's plate of biscuits. "Because it seem's like you might be." Arthur smiled ever so slightly and pushed the plate towards the boy.

"Well whatever would give you that idea?" He asked. Thomas nibbled at one of the chocolate ones.

"You have a lot of old stuff."

"Yes well I could just be eccentric." England said. Thomas frowned in response.

"Well, yes, you could be but if you were then why would everything look like it's yours?" he asked. "All the pictures look like they're family members, and the uniform upstairs looks like it's your size." England was both amused and infuriated that Thomas was picking up on clues that his sister, whom they were meant for, was not.

"So who do you think I would be then?" He asked leaning back in the kitchen chair. He watched Thomas ponder this.

"Are you the Doctor?" He asked finally. Arthur snorted.

"God I wish, but no."

"What about Merlin?" Thomas continued.

"But my name is Arthur." England pointed out.

"Yes but if I was Merlin and knew I was going to live forever I'd change my name to avoid attracting attention."

"Smart Lad." England said with a soft smile. "But I'm not Merlin."

"What about Dumbledore?" Thomas reached for another biscuit.

"Dumbledore's too old, besides, he died"

"Yes but if I was Dumbledore-"

"Yes yes I get it, no I'm not him."

"Robin Hood?"

"No."

"Sherlock Holmes?"

"Unfortunately not."

"King Arthur?"

"He was Welsh not English." England corrected. Thomas leaned across the table and folded his arms looking very intently, at the man.

"So, You're immortal, and you decided to stay in England for all this time. Abigail says that your paperwork has something to do with everything and that she put the queen on hold this afternoon." Thomas said. Arthur smirked 'He has it now.'

"Are you England? or maybe the UK? Sort of like a..." He trailed off searching for the word.

"Like a personification?" England prompted softly.

"Yeah," Thomas said then saw the look in Arthur's eyes. "Are you something like that?"

"I am, though it's too late to go into detail, yes I'm the personification of England. And you my boy have figured it out much faster than your sister."

"Oh." Thomas said. He didn't look very surprised, which was odd, he just looked thoughtful. "So not a lot of people know then? Are there other Personifications?"

"Yes and yes." England said. "And we'd appreciate it if you didn't talk to others about it. Or tell your sister, people are supposed to find out on their own." Thomas grinned

"I don't talk very often anyway, so it shouldn't be that hard."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well Thomas knows, so theres that at least. 1630 was of course the height of the witch trials in europe. As always please let me know if you find any inaccuracies in this chapter. Also Rate and Review please!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright AO3 you are now completely caught up! congrats! So this is an exciting chapter, plot starts happening! Also from now on updates should pretty regularly be on Tuesday's so see you then!

Abigail didn't consider herself to be a paranoid person but lately it seemed like everyone was in on some vast joke that had conveniently bypassed her. Since staying at Kirkland's, or rather Arthur's house, the man's host of unusual associates had gotten stranger. The Frenchman, Francis, had been visiting more and more often each time greeting Abigail with a cheeky wink. He Disappeared into Arthur's office which several minutes later elicited loud arguments about rules of some sort. The american most recently walked in with.

"Artie man, when are you just going to give in and tell her I mean seriously, any longer and I'll lose my bet to Mattie."

Then when the Indian Prime Minister visited a few weeks ago, A man named Amal also visited. He brought both of them lunch and while Abigail sat at her desk, simultaneously listening into their conversation and eating pork vindaloo, she learned that the man spoke Hindi. This wouldn't have been so surprising if he hadn't ranted at Francis about the stupidity of french more than once.

It didn't pass her by that the indian man's name was Amal, the same on that was scrawled on the box in the room with the musket. Amal also looked like the same Amal that had been in the picture from 1947 next to a very stuffy and tired Arthur. Abigail though was willing to be sensible and chalk it up to the man just having that kind of face... both men. Maybe the families had just been friends for generations. When she had brought it up to Thomas he had smiled and said, or rather written _Maybe it's the same person._ Then looked rather put out when she laughed.

Everything came to a head though on a Tuesday. She came in like normal, winding her way through the halls of westminster to Kirkland's little back office, today he was playing 'The Best of Queen'. After a brief hello she sat down at her desk, booted up her computer then jumped nearly three feet in the air when two things happened simultaneously. 1st, her cell phone rang, Thomas of all people was calling her. 2nd, Arthur let out a string of curses that she was sure hadn't been heard since the age of sail, and was even more impressive for the fact that she could hear it over the guitar solo for Bohemian Rhapsody.

Thomas came first, Thomas always came first. She answered the phone. "Thomas, Thomas, What's wrong?"

"Are you okay, Abby? if Mister Kirkland ok?" Thomas asked, he sounded close to tears.

"What? yes, We're both fine. I think." She said. Arthur called from the back room.

"Miss Clarke can you bring me the First Aid kit?" He called.

"In a moment!." She called back before returning to the phone. "THomas what is it?"

"There was a bombing, on the district line, not that long ago, it's all over school, are you sure Mister Kirklands ok?"

"Abigail, now please!" Arthur sounded slightly more panicked, and more than a little irate.

"He's yelling at me so he's fine. I'll call you back, Be safe thomas, I love you." She said getting up from her desk to locate the first aid kit.

"Love you too." He said before hanging up. She found the first aid kit in the coat closet and entered Kirkland's office.

"What's going on, have you heard about the b-" She began before she saw the scene inside her bosses office. There was blood all over the desk, Kirkland's blazer had been thrown against the opposite wall, creating a smear of blood where it had hit then slid. The computer had the news running, the reporter on screen covering the bombing, probably not more than 4 blocks from them. Kirkland himself was oozing blood from his chest, quickly and very business like, unbuttoning his shirt, revealing that his skin was completely covered in scars and the blood from wherever the hell this most recent wound had come from.

"You don't need first aid you need a bloody ambulance!" Abigail exclaimed rushing over with the kit.

"I'll be fine," He said through gritted teeth, snatching the kit and pulling out bandages. "Who were you talking too?"

"Thomas, he wanted to know if we were ok. THough I don't know about you now are you sure you don't need a hospital, what the hell happened to you?"

"Long story and I don't need a hospital the people in the attack will need it more than me." He muttered wrapping his chest. "bloody hell that was a new shirt too."

"You have a gaping chest wound and you say you don't need a hospital and you're worried about your damn shirt?!" Abigail pulled out her phone. "The hell's wrong with you?" That made Arthur pause in his wrapping. He looked Abigail square in the eyes.

"Fuck it." He said before grabbing the scissors from the first aid kit and driving them point first into his arm. Abigail screamed.

"Are you nuts!?" She cried diving for something to put pressure on the self inflicted wound. Arthur held her back though and Abigail watched in horror as, in the course of two minutes the stab wound stopped bleeding, scabbed over and healed. The only sound in the office was the news announcing a toll of people injured. Then Abigail looked into Arthur Kirkland's green eyes and softly said. "What the hell are you?" Arthur's face broke into a kind of relieved smirk.

"So glad you finally asked dear."

Over the years Arthur had grown used to the variety of questions that people whom he told asked. The royal family, who typically knew from birth really only needed to be told at 5 or 6 why they couldn't tell their friends. Prime Ministers typically wanted to know what his actual job was, though there had been one or two who wanted to know what football team he rooted for, an answer that varied depending on his mood honestly.

The Personal Assistants though always had the most interesting questions though, he had had maybe 10 PA's since the forties, when it became impractical to use colonies to do that work. There was always the question of how old he was, what his relationship with America/Canada/France was and of course;

"Were your and Elizabeth the First a thing?" Abigail asked. She was now sitting on the edge of his desk, having taken everything he said in stride. England rolled his eyes.

"Yes we were a thing, anything a tad more original?"

"Well sorry," Abigail said pursing her lips. "What the hell am I supposed to ask a personification anyway?"

"I'm sure you'll think of something." England said digging another shirt out of one of his desk drawers.

"So, all those others then, they're like you, Francis and Matthew and them?"

"Yes, their personifications too."

"Huh." Abigail said now looking to be deep in thought. England pulled on the new shirt and swiftly did up the buttons, then re-tied his thankfully spared tie. Good as new, well except for the bloodstain on the wall but he'd see if he could get one of the brownies from home to take care of it, god knew his office could use a brownie anyway.

"What's it like?" Abigail asked suddenly.

"Being immortal?" Arthur said throwing the ruined shirt and blazer into the bin. "Tedious, depressing but rather lucrative."

"No no." Abigail said standing up. "Being aware of everyone at the same time, like... what does it feel like when they die, can you hear what they're all thinking?" England was taken aback, that was a new one.

"Well," He started after a sip of tea. "I don't usually hear everyone at once, that would make me go crazier than Braginsky, Since the 90's I've been able to shut it off to hear myself think." Abigail looked at him with an expression that said that she was not going to let him dance around the other part of what she had said. "And...when something like the attack today happens, it hurts like hell and doesn't heal for a bit."

Abigail looked like she was going to ask something else but then Arthur's phone rang. He looked at it and it was the Prime minister as expected.

"I have to take this," he said. Abigail nodded and left as Arthur answered it,"Yeah," He said "I'm alright."

The commute home had been taken in somewhat of a haze, It was longer of course but at least it was uneventful. Thomas had text her that he had made it home safely and asked her once again if Mister Kirkland was ok.

Mister Kirkland, Arthur, England. How the hell had she ended up working for a country of all things? And not in the metaphorical way either, actually working for the embodiment of the whole damn country. It made her feel like she should brush up on her history just to keep from insulting the man. There had to be others though, other PA's for other nations, did they feel as weird about all of this, How did they find out? England had told her that there were rules about telling people, which made sense, but from what some of the others had said she wondered if it was one that others actually followed.

An older man sat down next to her when she changed bus's, this one headed finally to her apartment building.

"Abigail Clarke right?" He asked. Abigail froze and turned to look at him, he had a round and fairly cheery face, balding slightly on top and wearing tweed pants and a blue jumper, like an overgrown student, maybe he was a teacher?

"Um, yes" Abigail said "Sorry do I know you?"

"Not as such but I figured it was time I introduced myself." He said holding out his hand. "Robert Pendelton, I used to work for the old man at Westminster."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like a lot happened this chapter, don't you? if you do and would like to see certain things happen then let me know! Review


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey Everyone! Thanks for the enthusiastic comments, I hope you enjoy this weeks chapter just as much!

Abigail took back everything she had ever said about her job being easy. Apparently all it had taken was Arthur stabbing himself and her finally being told the secret he had been dancing around for months, for him to start giving her actual work to do. Mostly it was keeping track of what meetings he had, booking his flights, the occasional hotel and actually making sure the man ate. Good lord did he go to a lot of meetings, Abigail wondered if he had been putting them off the entire time she hadn’t known. She went with him sometimes. England was actually very thoughtful of the fact that she had Thomas to take care of, so if he was going to be out of the country, (out of himself?) for very long he didn’t take her. 

This meant she had still yet to meet any other of the Nations’ personal assistants, other than Robert who she supposed sort of counted. Robert in his self was interesting. He had been arthur’s pa for almost 20 years before he retired, and he had stories, he had taken to walking her home at least once a week. He was endearing in grandfatherly way.

Honestly the thing that was most on her mind was the meeting coming up at the end of the month, the world meeting, in Paris of all places. 

“I know it’s the middle of term but Thomas is welcome to come with,if it means you can go.” England said about a week before the meeting.

“You just don’t want to go by yourself.” Abigail replied not even looking away from the computer, the hotel was taken care of, train tickets were the only thing being a complete pain in the ass.

“I survived for this long without needing you to tag along.” Arthur said rolling his eye. Abigail stopped, turned to him and raised an eyebrow. Arthur pursed his lips, and looked away.

“He can come, it’ll be educational.” He said before going back into his office. Abigail chuckled quietly as he went.

* * * * *

Even Arthur had to admit that World Meetings were better now than in the past. Transportation was easier and there was much less posturing involved. Still that didn’t make up for the fact that he had to go to France. The three hour trip was actually bearable this time around. Normally he just read or listened to his ipod. However Thomas was taking full advantage of both the private seats and the fact that his sister now knew about personifications to ask every question imaginable. 

Unlike even most of the prime ministers, he had clearly thought about the questions carefully. The boy had tact, more tact than most 8 year olds. He wrote on the whiteboard, carefully, erasing words periodically with the sleeve of his jumper. And not for the first time, it made England think. He tried not to dwell too much on the future, usually it lead to wildly improbable scenarios that awoke the lingering imperial part of his mind. 

But now though, he thought of having a choice in his next assistant. Something told him Abigail may not be content with the job for the twenty years that Robert had been, few were. Thomas in ten years might be under qualified, but what was the point being a Personification if you couldn’t pull some strings once in awhile. As for Abigail, he hadn’t forgotten what Thomas had said about her being Prime minister. It would be an interesting challenge at the very least.

The hotel itself was the normal amount of chaos that came with the meeting, Hotel staff at this point was used to their shenanigans so it atleast was an organized chaos. He broke away from Abigail and Thomas, telling them he’d see them later, and headed up to his room. He slid the keycard, opened the door and nearly jumped out of his skin.

“Goddamn it Frog! Put on some pants!”

* * * * *

Abigail honestly had no idea what to expect from this whole affair. Arthur, almost from the moment of arriving had suddenly lost a lot of his calm. In fact most of the Personifications seemed on edge, though that could have had something to do with the amount of security and various foreign leaders swarming the place.

The next day though she crossed the road to the conference center Next to Arthur with Thomas in tow, reassuring the man that yes, he had everything, no he hadn’t left his keys in the hotel room, or on the train or back at Westminster.

“Arthur! Mademoiselle Clarke!” Said a voice from behind them. England stopped on the edge of the sidewalk, Causing both Abigail and Thomas to nearly run into him. Abigail turned to see Francis, (-er France?) crossing the street with no regard to the oncoming traffic, in tow was a brown haired man who crossed with much more regard for his personal safety.

“Frog what do you want that can’t wait until we’re actually inside?” He asked irritated. Francis grinned at him.

“I just wanted to formally introduce myself à votre adjoint Angleterre. Calm yourself” He said offering a hand to Abigail. “République française, mademoiselle. So nice to be in the know, oui?”

“Yes it is.” Abigail said shaking the offered hand. The brown haired man behind France smiled amiably at her. Abigail nodded to him. There were a few squeaks and Thomas held up his white board.

_ Bonjour, You are the French Republic correct? Mr. Kirkland has told me a lot about you. _

He had written. France squealed. Yes, the who knows how old personification, squealed like a teenage girl over her brother. Half a minute into the ensuing conversation, complete with historical facts and Francis saying how flattered he was, Abigail turned to the man behind France.

“Abigail Clarke, didn’t catch your name?” she said.

“Gerard Moreau.” He said in heavily accented english, shaking her hand “Who is the little boy?”

“My brother.. I’m still not exactly sure how he found out but.. He’s kind of like that.” She said. Gerard nodded. 

“How long did it take you?” He asked.

“Three months, you?”

“Two, only because Francis is horrible at keeping secrets.” Gerard said with a slight grin. Abigail snorted.

“Westminster had to be bombed and he had to stab himself for me to figure out anything.” Gerard’s smile faded. 

“Yes, I heard about that, horrible.” He said. Abigail nodded.

“Iggy! Francy!” Called a slightly more familiar voice when they entered the conference center. Abigail saw a brief flash of the American before someone yanked on her arm.

“Come on Newbie!” Said a woman pulling her towards a different room.

“Woah! Excuse me?” Abigail said pulling out of the woman’s grasp. 

“Eleanor, ma chérie, you have to introduce yourself first.” Gerard said gently. The American girl paused then grinned.

“Right, oh my gosh. Eleanor Walker so nice to meet the new Robert!” She said excitedly. Abigail frowned, temple twitching in annoyance.

“I’m not the new Robert, my name is Abigail” She said.

“Right, Right, of course, but you have to understand me and Robert spent a ridiculous amount of time together.” Eleanor said rolling her eyes. She looked like she may have been about to continue but her attention was caught by Thomas’s board near Abigail’s elbow. “Please don’t pull my sis-” She started to read before trailing off and looking at Abigail. “Why did you bring your brother, does he know about all of this, also what’s with the white board?” She asked in rapid succession.

Abigail decided not to dignify that with a response. She grabbed Thomas by the shoulder and turned to follow England, only to realize that they were the only ones in the entry way.

“What where did they go?” She asked baffled.

“Oh the meeting starts in two minutes.” Eleanor said.

“Shit!” Abigail said frantically looking for the door they had gone through.

“What? We don’t go with them normally.” Gerard said gesturing his head towards another room.

“Isn’t that our job?” Abigail asked looking at him skeptically.

“Only if they need something.” Gerard said heading towards the room he had gestured at. Abigail looked at Thomas who shrugged and followed him. She sighed.

“Well why not?”

“It’s dangerous, I mean they're immortal and when things get heated...” Eleanor trailed off.

“That and they prefer to deal with things at their own pace.” Gerard said.

“You mean slack off!” Said a Russian accented voice when they entered the room. There was a spattering of chuckles from around the room.

“Eh tomato tomahto Mikhail.” Eleanor said with a shrug. Mikhail was older than Abigail. Infact, besides Thomas and perhaps Gerard, Abigail was probably the youngest person in the room. The others seemed to range anywhere from thirty, to a Chinese man dozing in the corner who had to be at least seventy. Abigail took a deep breath and smiled.

“Nice to meet you all.”

* * * * *

Unproductive as always. England honestly didn’t know why he suspected any more from these things anymore. He sifted through the papers in front of him, bringing the campaign notes for this evening to the surface as Germany droned on about something limited to the rest of Europe. It was his turn to dungeon master Norway, Romania and his Dungeons and Dragons campaign and really what else did he have to work on?

In the midst of double checking the encounter levels, there was a crackle from the front of the room. England looked up irritably, already expecting some kind of technical difficulty but instead he saw the projector had suddenly changed from Germany’s slideshow to a collage. This wouldn’t be the first time that something had replaced one of Germany’s slide shows, though, normally it was more phallic. This time it was much more disturbing. A picture, or rather several. One of the Allies, at a camp in France, soon after normandy, another of Ludwig standing behind his boss, yes,  _ that _ boss. A third of America with one of his presidents, the tall one England knew. Most disturbing of all was what was typed beneath, in plain letters.

“We know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this is interesting huh? There's still plenty of room in the story for things you might want me to explore though guys, so please let me know. Review!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to Chapter 6! thank you for all of your comments, Enjoy!

The silence of the next few weeks was deafening, it invaded every waking thought of England's mind, and quite a few of his sleeping ones. Whomever had sent the warning, or threat, was untraceable despite their best efforts. And yet, despite the ominous threat, that was it. Who knew what they wanted? Theories ranged from money, to power and to America who said

"They want us scared, like in the movies, They're not going to do anything they just want us on knife's edge until we turn on each other!" Which, while rather over dramatic, could have a grain of truth to it. Afterall, the first thing that they did when something like this happened now a days was tighten down on security. And ultimately that meant background checks and questionings bordering on interrogation to some of those people that were closest to them in life. Most of all, the assistants.

England hadn't started in on Abigail yet. He really didn't want to. And this time at least he knew he wasn't the only one. No one liked to think that the assistants were responsible for security leaks. Nations trusted them in their homes, they in some cases were the only tie that Personifications had to their citizens that weren't faceless voices whispering to them from the backs of their mind.

England took the steps two at a time to his house, nearly missing the package on his doorstep. It was tupperware, and upon further inspection contained scones, apple cinnamon. He looked around and saw his ninety year old neighbor, Beatrice Dyer, waving from her yard.

"For the start's from your roses Arthur dear!" Beatrice said. England walked over to the low stone wall that separated their properties.

"You didn't have to bake for me." He said, though internally he was already planning the rest of his evening around the scones. "It was no trouble." She wagged her finger at him.

"Nonsense, you've work hard on those flowers for years, It's the least I could do." England felt his smile fade at the mention of years. How many people outside of their circle knew, or at least noticed that something was off.

"Arthur," Mrs. Dyer repeated jarring England out of his thoughts.

"I'm sorry, what was that?" He apologized.

"I said, I have some yellow Chrysanthemum and your welcome to as much as you want when you get the chance." She repeated patiently, then looked at Arthur concerned. "Are you feeling alright dear, you don't look well." Arthur dipped into the well of his imperial personality for the strength he needed to force a smile, to make the stress fade from his face. Beatrice cocked an eyebrow. Unimpressed. The empire faded and voices quieted as England rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.

"Fine mum" He murmured, a weedy strain of cockney slipping into his voice. "Just a bit of stress at work, I'll survive."

"Hm." She said folding her arms. "Well you're too young to be working so hard." Centuries of hearing that still just barely kept him from laughing. "Or at least, you look too young." She said with a smile. England felt the color drain from his face as she turned and walked back into her house without saying anything more. Arthur just nodded, then went in for a cup of tea.

****

It was like a whole new world had been opened up to Abigail. No pun intended. Eleanor gave her a list of emails after the meeting, all of the nation's current P.A.'s, and encouraged, no demanded, that she emailed them. Eventually this lead to a string of conversations with Gerard, Eleanor, and Mikhail. Finally a source of information about the personifications that wouldn't lead to an awkward conversation with Arthur. She learned about the various things that had gone on in meetings in the past, and why you should never use any elevators in the conference center.

Also more personal bits of information, Gerard informed her that contrary to popular belief France was a fantastic Wingman, Eleanor told her about seeing the new Star Wars movie 11 times since it came out, just with America.

 _And if you even mention Hamilton to that man_ She said in one email _You'll have a crying nation on your shoulder and then he'll try to rap Guns and Ships,while crying._

She was also vaguely aware that something important had gone on during the nation's conference, though no one had said anything. There was a nearly visible air of tension, many of the assistants for other countries mentioned that they had been thoroughly questioned by their bosses, though just what about they never said.

Truly though Abigail knew something was up when a tall man in a white scarf waltzed into their joint offices with Mikhail trailing behind him.

"Привет!" He said to her in an almost childlike singsong as he passed her to walk into England's part of the office. Sensing that this was the infamous Russia she had heard so much about. She raised an eyebrow at Mikhail who shrugged right as England let out a terrified yelp of surprise. Abigail slid over without getting out of her chair, she knew the nation could handle himself, and satisfied that Russia had simply sat in the chair opposite Arthur, she slid back and looked at Mikhail.

"Haven't seen you around here yet" She said. Mikhail nodded.

"Honestly he's a bit of a home body." He replied, his english was better than most of the assistants but there was still the twinge of an accent.

"I see, well, Want to come get a cup of tea?" She asked rising from her seat.

"Sound's good to me."

Despite their offices remote location the break room was actually pretty close. Something she was pretty sure that Arthur had chosen on purpose. The tea there was also pretty good, and donated by someone who wanted to remain anonymous, definitely Arthur.

"So what's going on do you know?" Abigail asked when they were seated at a table, tea in hand. Mikhail shrugged, taking a few sips of tea before speaking.

"Somebody who's not supposed to know knows apparently," He said "They're trying to to figure out where the leak is, and let me tell you, being interrogated by that man is terrifying." Abigail frowned.

"Really, I had heard rumors but he seems rather sweet."

"For the most part yes but I don't know if he's all there." Mikhail said draining the last of the tea. Abigail nodded, remembering what England had said about 'Crazier than Braginsky'

They made their way back to the office eventually. Russia was waiting just outside and beamed at them as they approached.

"Good, Very nice to chat with you England but we should be going" He said. Abigail could see England's 'Yes good, please get away from me now' Smile, usually reserved for members of Parliament. She waved to Mikhail who gave her a smile before going off down the hallway with his boss.

Arthur let out an audible sigh of relief. Abigail chuckled.

"What, scared of that man?" She asked. England looked at her unamused.

"Any sane person would be." He said. "Come on, we're going to lunch." Abigail blinked at him.

"We are?"

"Yes, come on." He said walking down the hall. Abigail sighed , ducked into the office for her purse, locked the door and followed him.

"Since when?" She asked when she caught up to him,

"Since now, why does it matter?" He asked, shoving his hands into his pockets like a teenager, albeit a very well dressed one.

"Because we don't do this kind of thing?" She said. She had brought her lunch most days, and he usually ordered in.

"Well, I wanted chips," he said lamely. Abigail rolled her eyes, somehow she knew what was coming. But England didn't say much of anything until they were standing in front of a fish and chips stand a few blocks from Westminster. "I've got it." He said when Abigail reached for her wallet. That stopped Abigail cold. Not the words but his accent.

"The hell was that?" She asked. England glanced at her as he passed over her cone of grease.

"The hell was what?" He asked, sounding distinctly scouse.

"Your voice, it's all..." She said and then was lost for words.

"OH come on," He said, this time distinctly Manchesterian. "You can't believe that my actual accent is radio announcer."

"well.. No, though that was good, but what's your actual accent then?" She asked, actually she had thought that his native accent was RP, and hadn't thought to even ask, but it made sense, he was all of england after all.

"Don't have one." He mumbled through a mouthful of fish, switching to something a bit more like estuary. "BBC english just makes sure I'm understood. Which is nice really." Abigail just looked at him gobsmacked for a few moments before she remembered that she was hungry. They walked a bit before finding and sitting down on a bench, the sun was out for once but it was still cool, piles of slush sitting on the sidewalks.

"So," She said after a bit. There wasn't a response from England, and she wished he'd just get it over with.

"I suppose you've heard then." He said after a long moment, staring across the streets at people walking past, kids, couples, old people feeding the birds.

"About the leak, yeah." She said.

"Figures as much" He balled up the now empty newspaper in one hand, pressing into his thigh. "So you know that I'm supposed to ask you if you've told anyone."

"I don't really have anyone to tell Arthur." Abigail said. "When me and Thomas moved down here it was by ourselves, and besides Robert I don't know a whole lot of people." England paused in his staring then looked at her.

"Robert? You've spoken to him?" He asked.

"Oh, yeah I meant to tell you, he stopped me after the railway accident." She said. "He's nice, very helpful." England nodded, now lost in his own thoughts.

"Yeah, he's great... Just.. promise me you won't tell anyone. I'd hate to end up being the cause of this" He said. Abigail snorted.

"Are you kidding, I don't want M-15 at my door. Your secret's safe with me."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright guys! You know the drill, Review!


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys so... guess what happens when life and anxiety hits you full force in the face combined with watching all of Undertale. You spend the next week stressing and doing nothing but reading horrible fanfiction and ignoring the looming deadlines you've created for yourself.   
> But I'm back now and I thank you for your patience and hope you enjoy the chapter!

There was someone in his house. Arthur woke after midnight to the tell tale sound of feet that were neither fey nor feline. Elizabeth was asleep in the crook of his sprawled legs and he very carefully  untangled himself, slid to the floor, tied his house coat and called upon his magic, green sparks licking at his fingertips. He carefully made his way from his back bedroom, down the stairs and into his entryway. Downstairs it was quiet, Any amount of movement had ceased and he was tempted to head back to bed. Then he felt the muzzle of a gun plant itself in the base of his spine. Shit.

“Stay right where you are freak.” A voice said. England rolled his eyes, really, they couldn’t come out with anything more imaginative, if he had a pound for every time someone had called him a freak he could have paid off Alfred's debts to Wao. 

“Oh don’t worry, not planning on moving, I suppose you don’t have the decency to come back in the morning, I do hate conducting business at three o’clock in the bloody morning.” He said, keeping his voice even. He wasn’t really all that scared of being shot, honestly he had had worse, but, if his neighbors heard the shot ring out the police would be brought in, and if the police got involved he’d have to get M-15 involved, and if he got M-15 involved then he’d be ‘encouraged’ to move. Again.

“No, shut up, Where are your files?” The voice said again.

“In the safe, 1st floor.” Arthur said smoothly, nothing important was kept in the house anyway, and if he could get a look at the boy’s face he could get them back.

“Not your house papers you twit, I’ve already seen those.”

“How rude-” He said dryly before he was interrupted by the sound of the gun cocking, and the feeling of the barrel pushing it’s way deeper into his spine, how had this kid got a gun in the first place?

“Personification stuff, where’s that?” Arthur sighed. Well now that he knew for sure that the boy was a threat-. His magic flared and the man behind him jumped scared, pulling the gun away from him as Arthur pivoted, only to be faced with a Guy Fawkes mask. 

“Are you kidding-” He managed to get out before the gun went off, driving itself into his foot. Somehow, injuries like that hurt no matter how many times they happened. The brief lapse of concentration allowed for his magic control to dissipate, the green glob shot off and burst into a blinding, though relatively harmless light. He heard a window breaking, dogs barking and then finally the wail of sirens in the distance. ‘ _ Bloody hell’ _ he thought for his position on the floor trying to stem the flow of blood from his foot. Liz had appeared and was now rubbing against him purring. He sighed and pet her gently, calming her.

“I think it’s serious now Liz,”

* * * * *

When Abigail got out of the shower there were two messages waiting for her. One from Robert. -I sent you an email, you might want to consider it, it could be a good opportunity.- The other was from England, -Do you have a car?- She dried her hands and glanced at the clock. Shouldn’t Arthur be at work already, why was he texting her? She ignored Robert’s text for now, she would check her email at the office. 

-No I don’t, why?- She text back, after a few moments she got a response.

-In which case I need to to go to my house, get my car and pick me up from the hospital.-

What. Abigail stared at the screen for a few seconds before Thomas pounded on the door.

“Abby! I need to brush my teeth before school!” He said, his voice was soft, though he had been talking all morning, that had to be a good sign.

“Sorry!” She said wrapping herself in a towel, grabbing her phone and making a break for her bedroom.  

-Why are you in the hospital?-

-Long story, just come get me please,keys are in the glovebox-

-Fine, but it’ll be a bit-

-Take your time.-

For what it was worth she didn’t, the moment Thomas was off to school she caught a taxi to Arthur's house. It was chaos. Unmarked black cars were in the process of replacing the police cars lining the block, there was caution tape around the fence of the property. 

“The hell?” She murmured as the driver pulled up. She got out and paid, not even asking for a receipt like she was planning on for Arthur to reimburse her.

“Terrible mess.” An older woman said to her from her yard next door.

“What happened?” Abigail asked, she could spot England’s car, a Mini Cooper from the sidewalk.

“There was a break in last night from what I’ve gathered, some teenager shot poor Arthur in the foot, your one of his people aren’t you?” She said turning to Abigail “I believe I saw you stop by to feed Liz.” Abigail hesitated, what did she mean by ‘his people’.

“Um, yes I’m his assistant, I’m supposed to get his car and pick him up.”Abigail said ‘ _ I didn’t even think about the cat, shoot.” _

“Ah well give him my best, tell him that I have Liz she hopped over the wall a bit after sunrise this morning.” She said. Abigail nodded.

“I will thank you.” She said before taking a deep breath and walking into the gate.

“Oi!” Said one of the still lingering police. “What do you think your doing? This is official police business.”

“I-I’m his, Kirkland’s, assistant” She stammered. “I’m supposed to get the-” 

“I don’t care who you are, it’s bad enough we’ve got these idiots from the government poking in, we’ll not have civilians in her mucking about.”

“Leave her alone Sergeant.” Said a voice from behind Abigail, she spun and saw one of the men who had interviewed her initially, Green or somesuch. “She’s one of ours.”

‘ _ I am? _ ’ Abigail thought before nodding and quickly making her way over to the car, leaving the two arguing behind her. 

Abigail heard Arthur before she saw him.

“I don’t bloody care! I’m not staying here!” He said limping along on a pair of crutches. He was dressed in a hospital gown, boot on his left foot.

“Mister Kirkland you just can’t checkout of the hospital! you’ve been shot!”  A doctor said following him quickly.

“I don’t care if I’ve been eviscerated I’m going- Oh good.” He said limping past Abigail. “Let’s get out of here.”

“Are you sure that's a good-” She began

“YES!” He shouted back. Abigail sighed and followed him. Inside the car Arthur practically fell into the passenger seat and fumbled around in the glove box as they exited the parking lot. Abigail almost asked what he was doing before her produced a cigarette and lighter, lighting it in one swift motion and falling back into the seat with a sigh.

“Since when do you smoke?” Abigail asked, pulling her eyes away from him and back to the road.

“Since the 1700’s back to Westminster, I think I still have a change of clothes there..” He said, at least he was decent enough to blow out the window. 

“Alright alright. Will you finally tell me what happened?” She said, he really was in a mood.

“I got shot in the foot, some man in a Guy Fawkes mask was looking for information about us,” Abigail nearly missed her turn from staring at him.

“He didn’t find anything did he?”

“No.” England said. “I don’t keep things like that at home,”

Getting Arthur through the corridor’s, limping, swearing under his breath, and still in his hospital gown, was interesting to say the least. If it wasn’t for the fact that she already wasn’t friendly with many people in the building this would surely ostracized her. Finally they made it though, Arthur went back to his office and shut the door, shouting through the door for her to order lunch. Abigail did then finally, several hours after she had planned, sat down to check her email. 

The e-mail from Robert was the only new message in her inbox and upon opening it she saw that it just contained a link. Abigail frowned but opened the link anyway. When it loaded the page revealed itself to be  a black screen with a box for username and password. She frowned and text Robert.

-How do I get in?- A few moments later, after the shuffling and cursing had largely died down from the back office she got a response.

-ALBION, TAMCE- That was it, So that’s what she entered. The black screen faded away and read.

“Welcome, You have been given the opportunity to end the populous blinding  from secrets that affect their day to day life. Choose wisely, Abigail Clarke”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How's that for a come back!? Review guys, and see you all next week!


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is a bit late guys, how about I make up for it with some drama though?

Abigail stared at the computer screen until the delivery man came in. She turned off her monitor, paying for lunch as the implications of what she had just opened up on her monitor ran through her mind. It was pretty damn obvious what that site was, some sort of well of whatever organization had been giving the nation's fits for months on end. 

She took the bag back to Arthur's office, where he was now wearing a sex pistols t-shirt and dress pants, talking on his phone in the voice he only ever used when he was talking to Alfred. The office smelled faintly like cigarette smoke but there wasn’t one in sight.

“Got to go, keep me posted git.” He said before hanging up. “Thank you, I apologize for my earlier behavior,” He said.

“No harm done.” She said desperately trying not to show how shaken up she was. Arthur didn’t pay much attention, he was busy eating the takeout with gusto, like he hadn’t eaten in days.

“I hate getting shot.” He mumbled, manners apparently out the window for the time being. Abigail let some amusement creep out from behind her panic.

“You act like it hasn’t happened that often, how old are you again?” She asked

“I can count the number of times I’ve been shot the past 5 decades on 1 hand.” He said giving her a dark look, “One of the good things about this era of history.” Abigail nodded awkwardly, then excused herself back to her desk. She turned her monitor back on after making sure that Arthur wasn’t standing behind her and stared at the web page again. 

What was she supposed to do about this. If it had been sent by anyone else Abigail would have had no problems telling Arthur. But Robert had sent her this! Grandfatherly Robert. Bring’s Thomas Aerobars Robert. Never hung up on the queen, best damn assistant Arthur had ever had, Robert. Why would England believe her?

“Miss Clarke?” Arthur called. Abigail rolled her chair so she could see into his office, He smiled at her.

“Yeah?” She asked.

“Thank you. Very much, it’s glad to know I can trust you” He said. Abigail smiled back and nodded, internally screaming. Perfect, just what she needed.

“Um.” She said reluctantly, looking at her computer, then back at him and took a deep breath. “Arthur, I think there's something you need to see.”

* * * * *

Thomas really didn’t mind school. His teachers liked him, most of the kids liked him and rarely did he have anyone give him any kind of problems for not talking. However, he did not like going home after school. He never liked walking by himself, more importantly staying in the apartment alone until Abby came home. As ironic as it sounded coming from him, it was too quiet. So Thomas welcomed Robert into their apartment with a smile. He used to work for Mr. England and had more interesting stories to tell than Abigail ever did when she came home from work.

“Hello Thomas, how are you today?” Robert asked. Thomas dug the pen and whiteboard out of his back pack.

_ Fine _ He wrote  _ Do you want a cup of tea? _

“That would be lovely.”

* * * * *

Everything was kicked into high alert less than three minutes after Abigail showed Arthur the email. The man hadn’t said much to her afterwards. Nothing more than “I need to make a few calls,” before he disappeared into his office, that's when the phone started ringing. Abigail spent the next several hours answering the phones, and providing England with a steady stream of tea. Any hint of a smile was gone, he was all business now. 

Abigail ended up leaving work an hour late, 

-Sorry- She text Thomas -on my way home now- 

There was no response. Not two minutes later, not ten minutes later, and not when she got off the train.

-Thomas? Did you turn your phone off- She text as she exited the underground. It wasn’t like him to ignore her. Abigail sighed and called him, neither of them liked speaking on the phone. The phone rang, once, twice, three times, then went to voicemail.

“Hello, this is Thomas, let me know who is calling and I will get back to you.” Abigail hung up, heart pounding. This was not good. 

Abigail took the steps two at a time up to their flat. The door was open and it was like all her nightmares had come back to haunt her. Inside the flat was empty, and most disturbingly enough, nothing was out of place, cups put away, plates from last night still soaking in the sink. All that was different was a single sheet of paper lying on the kitchen table,written on it: 

_ You made your choice, you have chosen poorly. _

Abigail stared at the note for a long moment. Who did she call? The police? And tell them that her brother had been kidnapped by an organization that wanted to expose a race of immortal teenagers that happened to represent every country on earth? They’d just laugh at her. She dug her phone out of her pocket and dialed Arthur, eyes blurring. 

“What is it? I’m busy Miss Clarke.”

“Mr.Kirkland.” She said, her voice was shaky and her heart was threatening to come up through her throat. “Arthur they took Thomas.” There was silence on the other end.

“I’ll be right there.” He said, she could hear him shrugging on a jacket and closing a door behind him, keys jangling. 

Abigail made tea. Did the dishes, did pretty much anything to keep the memories from leaking in.

“ _ I’m sorry _ ” The officer had said, Abigail had thought it had finally happened, that Thomas was dead, her parents had finally snapped. “ _ There’s been an accident, your parents, they didn’t survive _ .” But her brother did. Thomas, who was “too quiet” even before their parents had died. Who didn’t make a single sound for two weeks after Abigail picked him up. She had been the one to give him the whiteboard, afraid that without a method to communicate with he would retreat into himself and she’d never see her brother again. When he had first spoken he asked to go to the bookstore, Abigail had almost cried, she would have bought him the whole shop if he’d asked.

‘And now he’s gone, because you couldn’t keep your mouth shut.’ She thought, wiping her eyes with soapy hands, arguably the third worst idea she had had all day. There was a knock at the door. And she opened it to see Arthur.

“I’m so sorry...” He said practically at a whisper. Abigail shook her head.

“Not your fault,”

“Have you heard anything?”

“Not ye-” She started before the phone rang. She sighed, and pulled it out, an unknown number. 

“Yes?” She answered honestly there were two options here, it was either a telemarketer or Thomas’s kidnapper. And if it was the first one, god help them for wasting her time. 

“Hello Abigail, Do me a favor and put the old man on.” 

“Where’s Thomas you asshole?” She snarled into the phone.

“Fine, and he’ll continue to be if you hand the phone over to England.” Robert said. Abigail looked at England, then frowned and handed it over.

“Robert.” England said darkly “I suppose it’s time for a chat isn’t it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hehheh. What did you all think? let me know in reviews.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I apologize in advance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Really I promise I was going to update on time then stuff happened, but better late than never? We're officially off the rails when it comes to my outline, so, lets see what happens guys.

“What have you done with the boy?” Arthur asked, he leaned up against the wall, not meeting Abigail’s eyes. He never could look at his people when they were looking at him like that. Throughout wars and famine and disasters, all it took was that look of desperation to make him crumble.

“He’s fine, and also not the subject that I called to discuss.” Robert said, his voice was as calm as if they weren’t discussing a seven year old's kidnapping.

“Oh yes, what then?” Arthur said, his lips pursed, he was already searching, going deep into the throng of his people searching for Thomas.

“Exactly how quickly can your people go public?”

“My people? You know as well as I do that getting the rest of the world to agree to do something is practically impossible.” 

“Oh I’m sure that with all the added pressure that The Revealers are putting on you is quite sufficient.”

“The Revealers?” Arthur asked looking briefly at Abigail, She still had a hint of desperation on her face but was now scribbling furiously on a pad of people. Arthur put the phone on speaker. “Is that what you're calling yourselves?”

“Well I didn’t pick the name.” Robert said “It’s a bit too on the nose for my tastes”

“There are others then?”

“Of course Arthur, you really think all this could be the work of one person, it has had decades of planning, as long as you people have been around.” England stared at the wall straight ahead of him, he could feel the tension in his body, though he had tried to stay calm throughout this, to separate the man who he had once known from the one now talking to him on the phone. Those three words though, those had hit a nerve.

“It’s England. And I think it’s time for me to ask a question now.” England said.

“Oh?”

“Why? After working with me for all that time why would you betray me like this?” Arthur was trying to keep the upset out of his voice but he could feel his fingernails biting into his palm, fists shaking as they clenched. “Not just me either, the rest of the world, why would you do this to us.”

“Because someone needs to hold you responsible.” Robert shot back. “In the past how many have died for you? How many have you killed? How many people have had their normal everyday lives disrupted do to your peoples callousness about human lives?” 

“We never-” 

“Oh don’t give me that England, I’m the last person you should be trying to hide your sins from.” Robert snapped. “The Nations have never had a true purpose, Advisers? How often does anyone actually listen to you? Have they ever?” Arthur pursed his lip, abigail had stopped writing and was now staring at him, waiting to see what he’d do. “Humanity deserves to know, and decide what to do with you.”  There was a long tense moment of silence. No one spoke, if abigail didn’t know any better she would have thought that Robert had hung up.

“Thomas is at Georges and Baker. For your sake he better be alone. Goodbye Robert.” Arthur said before hanging up, tossing Abigail her phone and turning on his heels out of the apartment.

* * * * *

Abigail followed, barely remembering to lock the door behind her. England had already rounded the corner by the time she turned back around.

“Go home I’ll be back.” He said sliding into the driver's seat. Abigail didn’t respond before she had buckled.

“He’s my brother, and this is my fault.” She said. Abigail glared at him, daring him to argue with her, and in a brief flicker she saw Arthur’s age, all the betrayals, the heartache and all the stress from watching everything he built crumble around him.

“It’s not your fault, you did the right thing.” He said “And I’m going to do everything possible to get Thomas home safe. You don’t have to come.”

“Yes I do, I’m not arguing with you Arthur. Let’s go.” Abigail said. England frowned but started the car.

They drove in silence for a while, Arthur wasn’t bothering with most of the laws regarding speed and Abigail was silently hoping that they wouldn’t get pulled over, between her and Arthur the poor officer might not survive. 

“He’s wrong you know.” Abigail finally said. “Your necessary, all of you.” England laughed at her. A kind of laugh that really didn’t suggest that he found her funny in the least bit.

“Abigail we haven’t been necessary in centuries, a nation hasn’t had direct dealing in determining world affairs since The Great War.” He said taking a turn hard. “In some ways Roberts right.” Abigail almost began to argue with him when he brought the car to a stop. She lept out, not bothering to close the door behind her and ran for the building. The door was locked and Abigail slammed against the door.

“Thomas!” She yelled. People stared and hurried passed her. Arthur came up behind her while she was trying to figure out what angle was the best for ramming down the door with her shoulder.

“One moment.” He said Abigail watched as his hand filled with something green and glowing from seemingly nowhere.

“The hell-”

“Magic.” Arthur said simply forcefully pushing the mass into the door lock there was a pop and the door swung open. Inside it was dark, light barely filtered into the open space. It looked like the building hadn’t been touched in years.

“T-” Abigail began before Arthur put his hand over her mouth, he shook his head.

“Quiet” he mouthed softly before directing her with two fingers to follow him. As the entered deeper into the building Abigail could hear footsteps upstairs. Arthur led her away from them though, to the basement door.

“This is too easy.” Abigail said softly, “We should have seen someone by now, why would they leave him unguarded.”

“This is either a trap or..” He trailed off and nodded. “No this is definitely a trap.”

“So? Can’t you... Magic it or something?” Abigail asked.

“Do I look like The boy who lived?”

“No but you just magic’d the door!”

“Magic’d isn’t a word!” Arthur snapped.

“Does that really matter right now?” 

“I’d say it doesn’t” Said another voice. They stopped their arguing and slowly turned to see Robert standing a few feet away, holding a gun with one hand. And Thomas with the other.

“Thomas!” Abigail cried in relief. “Are you alright?” Thomas nodded

“Robert, let the boy go.” Arthur said stepping forward. Robert cocked the gun, leveling it at Arthur.

“See the problem we have now that you’ve decided to come find us is that I can’t leave witnesses, honestly though that’s more of a problem for your assistant and brat than anything else.” Robert turned the gun on Abigail. “Sorry dear, you honestly deserved better than working for this relic.”

“Bastard!” Abigail spat back at him, her heart was pounding. She couldn’t die now, not here, Arthur wouldn’t allow it, Thomas couldn’t see this, she would not di-. 

Many things happened at once. Men grabbed Arthur from behind, 5 of them just barely managing to restrain him, Thomas rammed into Robert’s side. The gun dropped. The gun fired.

Abigail had heard of time slowing to a crawl before but it wasn’t until now, when her hearing was dulled, her eyes blurry as they were fixed on Thomas, crumpled on the ground.

She didn’t hear Arthur's shout, the bodies of the men restraining him hitting the floor.

She didn’t hear the crunch of bone or the scuffle of the gun hitting the ground.

She didn’t hear Arthur’s shout’s of “Thomas, Thomas Stay with me.”

She didn’t hear ambulance sirens or the police running in. She followed the emt’s, getting into the ambulance alone, holding Thomas’s hand.

All she could hear was one small voice saying.

“I’m sorry Abby.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hehehe I really shouldn't do this too you twice in a row but here we are again, Thomas in danger. Like it? Hate it? Want more of something? tell me at wierdkid20.tumblr.com or in reviews.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey Everyone, so a late and short chapter, but interesting hopefully, there's some info at the end that you might be interested in. Thank you

Even the warmth of bad hospital coffee couldn't draw the numbness from Abigail. She wasn't actually drinking it, she didn't like coffee. The nurse had guided her into one of the hallway chairs when they brought Thomas in and handed her the Styrofoam cup saying:

"We'll keep you posted."

That was half an hour ago and Abigail hadn't taken her eyes off the wall since. She vaguely remembered someone asking her if there was anyone to call.

"No," She had said. After all there were just her grandparents, and what could they do? They didn't seem to care much beyond Christmas time. She saw someone sit next to her out of the corner of her eye and turned her head, reluctantly pulling herself out of her thoughts. It was England, of course it was, he hadn't changed clothes he smelled like dust and blood and looked as worried as if it was his younger brother in the hospital room, not hers.

"How is he?" He asked softly.

"They haven't said." Abigail replied turning her focus back to the wall.

"I'm sorry" He said

"Not your fault Arthur, I should have known better," Abigail said, her voice should be breaking, she should be crying but it was like the tears were frozen inside of her, adding a cold snap to her voice. England; former world empire, current major political player, man who had seen countless wars and famines, flinched. Abigail continued. "I shouldn't have taken this job, shouldn't have moved us here, and shouldn't have gotten involved in this whole mess." There was a pause, a few nurses shuffled pass them, the coffee was growing cold. Arthur gently took it from her, left and returned a few minutes later with two cups of tea.

"I'm the one that chose you in the first place." He said. "Mostly to piss off Charles at M-15." Abigail raised an eyebrow without looking at him. "You were at the bottom of their list and Charles said something about you not being able to handle the work, so I insisted." Another long pause, Abigail took a sip of tea and turned to look at him again.

"You know you can be a right pain in the ass sometimes."

"It's my primary purpose these days."

"Miss Clarke?" A nurse said. Abigail turned to look at her quickly.

"Yes what is it?"

"You can see him now, but he's asl-" She began, Arthur had taken Abigail's cup before she flew out of the chair, down the hall and into Thomas's room. He was asleep, his abdomen bandaged. Abigail gingerly sat next to him, taking his hand, the one not hooked up to a drip, in her own.

"It's going to be alright Thomas. I promise."

*     *     *     *     *

The next morning Abigail woke to the sound of voices.

"So he really wasn't hunchbacked?" Thomas's said.

"No, honestly it was barely noticeable, Will added quite a bit of embellishment to make him more villainous. Really though he was a nice man." Arthur replied. Abigail opened her eyes. She had been moved to a chair, Arthur was sitting on the opposite side and Thomas was sitting up in bed, eating ice cream.

"Thomas?" Abigail asked. The boy turned and lunged over the bed to hug her.

"Careful!" Arthur warned. "The nurse will have our heads if you reopen your stitches."

"I'm ok Abby." Thomas said in response to the shudder breath of relief that came from her chest.

"Thank goodness." She said hugging him tightly. Their embrace was interupted by the opening bars of Rule Britannia.

"Sorry." England said answering the phone. Abigail ignored him, holding on to Thomas. "Yeah," England said into the phone. "No no he's alright... Normal place?...Be there in about 20." He then hung up.

"What's wrong?" Abigail asked,

"Emergency meeting, I have to go, there's a pair of guards outside here." He said standing, He apparently noticed Abigail's look of alarm. "Just a precaution, everyone that was at the building was taken into custody, but better safe than sorry."

"Thank you." Abigail said. Arthur shook his head.

"Don't mention it, I'll pop back in later."

*     *     *     *     *

"Yo Artie I heard you kicked some ass!" America shouted from across the room, less than two seconds after England had walked in. "Way to go old man!" England was really starting to wish that people would stop calling him that. He didn't respond to America, just settled into his usual seat.

"Now that we are all here." Germany began, surprisingly he didn't have to shout over anyone, the atmosphere was subdued, even Greece was awake for this. "We need to discuss yesterday's events."

England let Germany go over the disastrous encounter with Robert. He was well aware of the concerned looks being sent his way and he didn't care, part of him, the imperial bit, buried deep inside of him was fuming with rage that anyone would dare to hurt one of his people. It was obvious what they had to do. He looked around at the faces of the nations. There were more here now than there had been even just 30 years ago, and yet, even the youngest ones knew what they had to do.

"England." Germany said. England turned his head back towards the head of the table, he could tell that this was probably not the first time his name had been spoken. "Anything to add?"

"If this group," He said "The Revealers, they're too well organized to be run just by one small cell in London."

"They're not a threat to us," One of the south american countries spoke up, England could never keep all of Spain's kids straight, the ones that spoke to him at least.

"It's not us we need to be worry about though." France said from two seats down from England. England nodded.

"It's our citizens, more specifically the ones closest to us." He said, He panned his eyes around the room. "They've proven that they have no problem going after them, or their children," His eyes landed on China and a few that had older assistants, "Or even grand children."

Across the table China met his eyes.

"What do you propose we do then England?" The ancient nation said. Arthur read the room as deeply as he could, He knew what they were thinking, so many years of being at the center of the most isolated society in the world led to him being able to read each individual's body language almost perfectly. He took a breath, and voiced the thoughts.

"We need to go public, on our terms, not theirs."

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's it! well not really. I am considering a sequel fic if you guys are interested, because honestly the nations being revealed to the rest of the world is my favorite thing ever. Also there will probably be a few one shots so keep your eyes peeled.
> 
> So, what did you think? Let me know in comments.
> 
> And thank you so much for reading.


End file.
